


Troll Hunting

by lavendercaina



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Oneshot, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:51:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13676502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendercaina/pseuds/lavendercaina
Summary: Thoring has an interesting exchange with a customer.





	Troll Hunting

A frigid gust of wind accompanied the slam of the inn door.

Thoring looked up, snapped out of his thoughts by the sound, and saw a shivering, scowling Argonian standing at the inn’s entrance. They stomped their feet, sending thick clumps of snow across the wooden floor, and they muttered and hissed under their breath what one could only assume to be Jel swears. They were obviously agitated. Thoring just hoped they wouldn’t cause any trouble.

After warming themself at the fire for a moment, the Argonian started towards the bar towards Thoring with a stiff gait and piercing stare. As they came closer, Thoring noticed a bitter odor, which grew to near overpowering by the time they reached the counter.

“Where can I find frost trolls?” came the patron’s request.

...Frost trolls? Now, this Argonian must be mad, thought Thoring. Their furred clothing could barely be called proper armor, and only a small bundle of makeshift arrows sat in their quiver. In no way were they prepared to do battle with such fearsome beasts! A single swing of a troll’s massive arms would reduce them to offal on the snow.

The Nord took in the lizard’s appearance. Icy blue eyes with thin slits for pupils, deep orange feathers on the crown of his head, and vivid blue and orange scales... at least, he thought they were blue and orange. It was hard to tell under all the dirt. This Argonian was absolutely filthy! Their body was covered in muck both old and fresh, the fur of their armor was matted, and their clothing was stained and soiled. Well, that explains the smell...

The Argonian huffed and slammed their fist on the wooden counter, shaking Thoring out of his confused stupor. “Did you hear me, smoothskin?” they rasped lowly. “I’ve tromped through this damned hold for days, and have only found one troll den to the west of here. I know they’re supposed to be plentiful in these areas, so where are they?”

Thoring gulped and found his voice. “W-why in Oblivion would you want to find trolls?” he asked.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed I haven’t had a proper wash for some time. That’s because I have no soap, and I can’t make any because I have no fat trimmings.” The Argonian sighed and threw up his arms in exasperation. “ _So,_  I’m hunting trolls so I can stop smelling like them.”

Soap? This Argonian was braving The Pale’s unforgiving tundra and all its beasts, for  _soap?_

Yes, surely mad...

“Well,” Thoring started, not entirely certain how to respond, “if it’s only soap you need, I could sell you some for just a few septims-“

“ _No._ ” interrupted the traveler. “I live by a strict code of self-sufficiency. I craft all my supplies myself. I don’t want to buy any. Just tell me where to find trolls.”

Mad and _stubborn_...

“Erm... alright. Along the mountain range to the southwest, near Hjallmarch, I’ve heard tales of an ancient ruin that is supposedly crawling with them...?”

But before Thoring could even finish the sentence, his customer turned and left the bar without a word.

With another gust of wind, the inn door slammed again, and the mad, stubborn, soapless Argonian was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm going through my documents and i rediscovered this cute little oneshot i wrote back in june of 2017, while i was having some difficulty with my basic needs mod. i needed to bathe because i'd gotten dirty which gave me a speech penalty, but to bathe you need soap and to make soap i needed troll fat. my character, Lurks In Trees, is a survivalist hermit obsessed with self sufficiency and refused to simply buy soap or fat, and as part of my hardcore playstyle i myself refused to use any guides. i remembered there were frost trolls in the north (it had been a while and i forgot all about the rift and its abundant, weaker trolls...) so i fought Frostfall in the Pale and Winterhold for real-life days ultimately to make some damn soap. it was frustrating, but funny, so i decided to write about it!


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